


We Shouldn't

by noel_108



Category: Lost RPF
Genre: F/M, Lost - Freeform, Smut, lost fanfiction, naveen andrews - Freeform, sayid jarrah - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-03
Updated: 2020-07-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:47:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25041898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noel_108/pseuds/noel_108
Summary: [I swear to god 🐍 and 🍍, please don’t read this 👁👄👁]The two of you were cast as a couple, and it started out professional. The romance lingered, finding its way off screen and into your lives. It would’ve been fine, was he not married.
Relationships: Naveen Andrews & Reader, Naveen Andrews/Reader, Sayid Jarrah/Reader
Kudos: 7





	We Shouldn't

**Author's Note:**

> If you know me personally I beg you to stop reading lmao

The boom guy dropped the stick, or maybe it just fell apart. Either way, Naveens hand shot to your shoulder, his other on your back. It wasn’t a quick reflex, the mic had already hit your forehead. The guy apologized quickly and you laughed softly. Naveen didn’t move his hands yet, but it was fine. Platonic. 

You found yourself in a steamy scene, tounge on tongue. The camera pans away while his hand moves to the waist of your jeans.  
Kane: “Cut!”  
He pulls away, not moving further. His eyes study you carefully.  
Kane: “Guys, cut.”  
“What?”  
Naveen, softly: “Nothing.”  
Another short moment passes before he seems to snap out of it.  
Naveen: “Nothing.”  
He sits up and you follow suit. That wasn’t quite platonic. 

Season three premiere. You were in a slim, quite racy dress. Your hair was in a bun, half up. Naveen moved to you, eyes focusing on your hair.  
Naveen: “Is it supposed to be like that?”  
“What?”  
Naveen: “The bun is falling out.”  
“Seriously?”  
Naveen: “May I?”  
“You’re gonna mess it up.”  
His fingers were already moving a bobby pin.  
Naveen: “I won’t… Wait… I’ve messed it up.”  
You groan and tilt your head back in annoyance.  
Naveen: “I can fix it. Wait.”  
His hand touches your shoulder briefly, sending goosebumps up your neck. You hear squeals from the crowd as someone points the two of you out. You smile and look down.  
Naveen: “Alright. I fixed it. Now you’re perfect.”  
No big deal, he spoke to everyone like that. He put his arm around you, hand on your arm. You smiled for the cameras before someone with a mic approached. You gave them a different smile, greeting them.  
Reporter: “I have a million questions about the new season, but first things first… how are you guys?!”  
“I good! How are you?”  
Reporter: “Oh, I’m great. So, who did y’all show up with? Who’s the date?”  
“Oh. I know it’s expected of me to come with a guy, but I didn’t want to. So, I didn’t. No date.”  
Reporter: “Naveen, your wife, I’d assume.”  
Naveen: “Ah, she couldn’t make it. She would’ve loved to though. Looks like we both showed up alone. How depressing.”  
He smiled.  
“That’s okay, you can be my date.”  
Naveen, not missing a beat: “I’d be honored.”  
Man: “Naveen!”  
He looked to the other questioner and moved his arm from her. They lost contact as she was asked if there was anything she could say about the upcoming season. 

Sex scenes were never not awkward, and shower scenes were even worse. His bare chest pressed against yours, both of you in underwear. Your legs held yourself up over his hips. You were wet, and not only from the water spilling over your skin. This felt far too natural. Thank god for the sound of Kane calling for a cut. You let your legs down, keeping your hands on his shoulders.  
“Wait, cover me.”  
You set your chin on his shoulder and kept him pressed against you.  
“Can I get a shirt or something?!”  
Jane walked to you with a towel and you wrapped it around yourself before letting him move.  
Naveen: “You alright?”  
“Yep.”

Interviewer: “Impersonate one of your castmates.”  
You held a finger up and left your seat, moving towards Naveen. Swiftly, casually, you moved your arms to the back of his neck and quickly unclasped the chain he wore. He was frozen, his hands hanging in the air as he stopped them from grabbing your waist. You took the chain and put in on as you walked back to the interviewee.  
“Okay.”  
You sat, spreading your legs dramatically and crossing your arms. You nodded at the camera and spoke in a british accent that sounded british, but not quite Naveen.  
“I play guitar.”  
You laugh, as does the guy sat across from you. He’d introduced himself before the questions started, but you’d already forgotten. Naveen scoffed, having followed you. He wouldn’t just leave the chain in the the clumsy hands of yourself.  
“I would fuck her if I wasn’t married.”  
Naveen: “I don’t say that. I’ve never said that in my life!”  
Yes he had.  
Naveen: “Don’t tell people I’ve said that! I have never said that.”  
Yes. He. Had. He moves to take off the chain, his delicate fingers undoing the clasp. His nail brushes against your skin.  
“Do not scratch me with your insanely long nails that you refuse to cut.”  
Naveen: “They’re not- We’ve had this conversation before!”  
He moves said nails to your cheek and you coil away, then slap his hand a few times.  
“Stop! You’re like a cat!”  
Naveen: “Get up.”  
You get out of the seat with a laugh and give a presenting motion towards it.  
“Your seat, madam.”  
Naveen sits with a look of playful annoyance. He crosses a leg over the over and flips his hair behind his shoulder. He puts on a convincing American accent in a ‘girl voice’.  
Naveen: “Oh my god, Hawaii is so hot. Ew, I’m sweating. Run! A fly! Ahh!”  
“Oh, shut up! Hawaii has terrifying bugs. Well, everywhere has terrifying bugs, but Hawaii has Dom, who picks them up and puts them on me.”  
You make a sound of disgust and shiver, shaking your hands as if they were wet.  
Naveen: “She’s the most over dramatic person when it comes to bugs. She’ll literally ruin a scene because she heard a buzzing.”  
“Alright, get out.”  
He laughs and stands.  
“This is not your interview. You are aching to be in front of a camera. Attention whore.”  
Naveen: “Please, you probably screwed Damon to stay on the show.”  
“Ew! For the record, he kept me on because of my insane talent.”  
Naveen: “Oh, shut it! I was joking, by the way. I don’t want that on your record. Neither of them would ever.”  
“Thank you.”  
Naveen leaves and you look the the interviewee, who was thankful he’d gotten to experience this first-hand.  
“Sorry, that got really unprofessional. We have a tendency to do that.”

Laughing, then looking to each other. You laid flat on your backs. Slowly, cautiously, he moved a hand to your face. And he kissed you. Hot, sweet, electric lips on lips. Both turned onto your sides, but you found yourself on your back again after just a moment. Tongue on tongue, he held himself over you. That’s when Dominic walked in.  
Dom: “Whoa.”  
Naveen gasped softly and moved off of you. You were flustered, chest rising and falling rapidly. Quickly, you sat up.  
“That didn’t happen. Dom! That didn’t happen. Got it?”  
Dom: “You two…”  
“Dom! Please.”  
Dom: “Alright. Just because I can’t imagine his wife will be thrilled.”  
“Please, I swear to god…”  
Dom: “Whatever. Secret’s safe with me.”  
Dom walked away and Naveen placed a hand on your thigh. A far too sensitive part of your thigh.  
“Naveen, don’t.”  
He continued to.  
“Naveen, don’t touch me. Naveen.”  
He raised his hand, fingers outstretched in a calming motion. There’s a moment of silence as the air becomes something one could shatter. He does so with a soft voice.  
Naveen: “I’m sorry.”  
“Yeah! What was that?!”  
Naveen: “Don’t say it like you haven’t been leading me on for months.”  
“You have a wife. A kid! I am not a homewrecker, Naveen. I don’t know if you can understand that, given your past romances, but I’m not you.”  
He was hurt. That really hurt. You stood and walked away, visibly upset. You found Dom and explained that it was a mistake that wouldn’t happen again. He couldn’t tell because the scandal would stay with the two of you forever, and you might leave the show. He couldn’t tell because they’d ‘known each other for so long, Dom’. Because ‘Please, his wife would hate me. His kid. I know what it’s like when parents split and, Dom... it’s not good’. So he didn’t tell. He never told a soul.

“I’m sorry.”  
Naveen turned.  
“About what I said.”  
Naveen: “It’s justifiable, really.”  
A long pause.  
“It wasn’t bad. The kiss. You kiss differently out of character.”  
Naveen: “You don’t sound like you regret it.”  
Pause.  
“Don’t you?”  
Naveen: “No.”  
No, you couldn’t start this. He was married.

Naveen didn’t get drunk. Not anymore. You, on the other hand, were a different story. Very drunk, very horny. You pulled him out of view, pressed him against a wall, and kissed him hungrily. You shouldn’t do this, but he looked so damn good in this light. He looked so damn hot. And he wasn’t missing a beat, his tongue on yours, head tilted and mouth opened wide, lips on yours. You moaned softly as his hand slid to your ass, holding you there. You moved a hand to his jeans, writhing your fingers down but getting nowhere. That man and his belts. You smiled into the kiss, your hands ripping at the leather strap around his hips as your teeth pulled at his bottom lip. You got the belt undone, but the clink of the clasp snapped him back to reality. The kiss ended and he moved you back by your waist.  
Naveen: “You’re drunk.”  
“Shut up.”  
Naveen: “Stop. Stop.”  
He didn’t want to stop. Not at all. Not even at the fact that you were undoing his pants in public. He stopped because he knew you’d hate him sober, and that it wouldn’t be fair for him to do this. So he put his belt back on and kissed your forehead.  
Naveen: “I won’t do this to you drunk. I like you better sober, anyways.”  
So he left you frustrated and filled with a different attraction. 

You were sitting in a chair next to Naveen, and had been asked what one item you would bring to the island.  
“Um… Can I bring a fully functioning boat? I wouldn’t know where to take it, but I’m sure I’d figure it out.”  
Naveen: “Cheater.”  
No, he was. Or, was just teetering on the edge of the definition.  
“Alright, for the sake of the game, I’ll say I can’t. Um…”  
Naveen thought only for a moment before speaking with that perfect accent of his.  
Naveen: “Can it be a person? Sex. With any… well, you know. With anyone.”  
You laugh.  
“I don’t know what I expected from you. I bet everyone’s saying like, a radio, a knife. ‘Sex. I’ll- I’ll bring a prostitute’. Sex isn’t an item.”  
Naveen: “But it’s something you can have with you.”  
He said it so incredibly casually, and you burst out laughing.  
Naveen: “Have you got something better in mind?”  
“Um… a rope. A really long rope. Like, a lot of rope. I could… Well, I could try and make a raft. And if that didn’t work out, I could hang myself.”  
You put a hand over your mouth as you registered what you’d said and laughed. Naveen chuckled.  
Naveen: “I say sex and you say something to kill yourself with.”  
“That really says a lot about us.”  
You laugh again.  
Naveen: “You could always use some of your rope for my item.”  
“You know what? I’m down. But I can only bring one thing.”  
Naveen: “I’ll bring a couple.”  
“That’s the smartest idea he’s ever had. A couple. Counts as one thing. We’re just gonna split them up?”  
Naveen: “Can they bring their own items as well?”  
“And we can switch when we get bored.”  
The two of you laugh again and you cover your face. You look to the interviewee.  
“I am so sorry people had to hear that.”  
Naveen: “Why are you embarrassed?”  
Because you just talked about using rope during deserted island sex, and you implied that you’d do it with a woman. Naveen wasn’t at all put off at her ‘we’ll switch’ suggestion. He would.  
“Because you’re embarrassing. Anyway, a rope. For a raft.”  
Naveen laughed.

“Wait. Naveen, wait! Please!”  
Naveen turned. He wasn’t supposed to turn, and that’s when you realized you made the rookie mistake of calling him by his name. He stayed in character when he spoke, using that not-quite-arabic accent that was just good enough for american television. Good representation or not, it was hot as hell. You wished he always spoke like that.  
Naveen: “Who exactly is Naveen? Are you cheating on me? Who is he? I’ll torture him.”  
“Shut up! Re… redo it. I’m sorry. Shit. I’m- I’m sorry.”  
You walked back to your starting point and Naveen followed.

The guy was an addict. Maybe no longer addicted to heroin, alcohol, and most any other drug he got his hands on, but an addict nonetheless. He was addicted to cigarettes, trenchcoats, taking horrible promotional pictures, and sex. He’d been caught only once by the media, with some blonde no one knew. But behind prying eyes, he was addicted to cheating on his wife. He was a sex animal, and it wasn’t long before he sunk his claws into you. Not his literal claws, those nails you wouldn't let near you.

He was kissing you in the empty set of his character centric episode. A modified animal shelter.  
“Stop.”  
He didn’t.  
“Stop.”  
He didn’t.  
“Stop.”  
He did.  
“Don’t.”  
Naveen: “Why not?”  
“Because that’s not fair! Because you’re married, because you have a kid, and because you can’t just pin your coworkers against the wall and make out with them!”  
He sighed.  
“Don’t look at me like that.”  
Naveen: “Like what?”  
“That. Like I’m the crazy one.”  
A pause.  
“Just don’t.”  
You walked away. If he wasn’t married you’d be fucking him, no doubt. But that really didn’t keep you from him for long. It already hadn’t kept you from him drunk.

He cut his nails. Why he cut his nails, you weren’t quite sure. Maybe it had something to do with you telling him they made him notably less appealing, that he didn’t need them quite that long to play guitar, and that his pinky nail reminded people he used to use it to scoop cocain from those quaint little drug baggies. Maybe he still did sometimes. You were never really certain about that. He kept his thumb nail long enough to pluck a string.

“We shouldn’t do this.”  
Naveen: “No, we shouldn’t.”  
He didn’t heed even his own warning, pulling your pants off completely and quickly moving on top of you. Your house, of course. He panicked the whole way to it, practically asking god himself to give you sobriety while you drove. You couldn’t get a taxi, season four of the show was airing and you couldn’t go anywhere without being recognized.  
“Mmph, we shouldn’t do this.”  
Naveen: “I know.”  
He wouldn’t take you drunk last time, but you were only buzzed now. This, he’d allow himself to do. He kissed you passionately.  
Naveen: “I should go home.”  
You lifted your head and kissed him again.  
Naveen: “But I’m not driving your car and I wouldn’t ask you to take me.”  
He kissed down your neck.  
Naveen: “That would just be awkward.”  
He pulled off his shirt.  
Naveen: “And we’re already here.”  
You sat up and he practically ripped your top off, throwing it to the ground in a swift motion. Your hands yanked down his pants and your lips met again.  
You woke naked, his body radiating heat against yours. You trailed a finger along his chest, then looked at his face for the first time that morning.  
“You okay?”  
Naveen, deadpan, though it didn’t sound quite like it with his accent: “Perfect.”  
You wanted to place a soft kiss on his cheek, but that wasn’t something you could do. That would be too comfortable. Too tender. Instead, you sighed softly and cuddled against him.  
Naveen: “I can call Matthew, have him cover for where I was all night.”  
“Okay.”  
He looked at you, processing how softly you’d said the word into his chest. Processing how nice you felt under the sheets with him.

More overly sexual Naveen, more unapproving looks from Dom as you stared at the addict. Casual touches that easily passed as just that. Casual. Naveen touched everyone like that.

“Stop. Naveen, stop. We-”  
He pushed you into the car and brought himself over you. He grinded against you, lips locked on yours. They unlocked and he continued using you for friction on his increasingly hard dick. He kissed your neck, grazing your ear with his teeth when he reached it.  
“We sh… We shouldn’t. Fuck, Naveen. We… Right now?”  
Naveen pulled down your pants before you’d even realized his hands had moved there.  
Naveen: “Right now.”  
It was difficult to get the pants off in the small backseat of his car, but not awkward somehow. Your underwear was considerably easier. His boxer-briefs were still on one of his ankles as he pounded into you, not giving you any time to adjust. It didn’t really matter, because where would you even move? This car wasn’t soundproof, but the thought hadn’t crossed your mind. He put a hand over your mouth, but you simply moaned into it. He plugged your nose and you quieted. He almost forgot you had to breathe at one point, forgetting to remove his hand as he had been. Your nails digging into his forearm was meant to be a plead for air, but that wasn’t why he moved his hand. You gasped, oxygen finally reaching your head. No, he moved his hand to clutch the seat as he came inside you. Birth control was a lifesaver. 

You weren’t sure how it happened, but you were kissing in his trailer. Making out was a better description. Actually, “almost sex” worked best. And then, fairly quickly, it was sex. Your hand met his bulge, begging to get out of those jeans. You smiled, then bit his lip. Your hand snuck into his pants, feeling his member. It wasn’t long before clothes were torn off and you were in your underwear, kneeling on the floor with his dick in your mouth. He had a fistfull of your hair, shoving himself into your throat. His head was tipped back, and fuck he liked this. You couldn’t quite say you liked it too as you gagged silently. He didn’t care for a moment, but as you gagged again, he stopped and let you breathe. It only took you a moment before continuing. He came in your mouth, making you whimper as you were forced to swallow. A guy of his experience had stamina that could rebuild incredibly quickly, especially with his fingers soaked in your slick. His left hand, because his already growing nails were a no. When he was hard again, you found yourself riding him in the chair. The chair they’d do his final touch-ups in. You really hoped this wouldn’t be as obvious as you feared, you already had “sex hair”.

He dressed like a villain. Trenchcoats and other extravagant clothes. Rings that made him look like a feminine, foriegn piece of work. He looked elegant, in a way. But he wasn’t elegant, he was a mess. His posture was perfect, his movements smooth and seductive. Seductive in a way that stretched beyond genders. He was a previous rockstar, a previous junkie, a previous homewrecker. He was a current muse. A man who had been called pretty his entire life. Because god, he was pretty. His personality? Not as pretty. He was so categorical you weren’t sure if it was a facade or not. His past, however, was just strange. Older women, though you weren’t older and past lovers weren’t women. A kid, you knew he loved the child, you knew it gave him a bit of purpose, yet not enough to settle down. He often talked about how he wasn’t young, but he wasn’t old yet. Not older than your taste. Addictions, brought up at every interview. The way he looked when he spoke about it showed that there was real, genuine regret. Regret, but not about the addictions. About how they stole years from him. Years from his ‘youth’ he was so vocal about no longer having. Shut up, Naveen. You’ve got years ahead of you.

A get together with the cast during a short filming break. You didn’t get too much of those, but you’d all worked overtime to give the editors time to finish without waiting for the next shots. A large restaurant, but not fancy. Comfortable, spacey. You’d left to use the restroom, and now found yourself facing Naveen as you walked down the hall back to the group. He moved to you swiftly, almost as if it were a dance he knew by heart. Now his arms were on either side of you, hands on the wall and holding himself up at an angle.  
Naveen: “Are you going to stare all night?”  
“Get off.”  
Naveen: “If you want to-”  
“Naveen. Public.”  
With a sigh, he pushed off the wall and you walked away. He went to the restroom to seem less conspicuous. 

Now you were in private. Now you were back at your place and Naveen was naked on your bed. He practically growled at the feeling of your hand around his cock and your lips on his chest. You bit the skin at his collarbone. You were marking the man up. Shit, you were marking him up. You gasped softly and looked at his bare skin. Not that bad. A few lingering hickeys, but they’d fade, right? Naveen became unquestionably frustrated at the absence of movement. He was almost there for gods sake, and you didn’t seem to be in a hurry to do whatever it was you must’ve planned on doing. He moaned in complaint, arching his back.  
Naveen: “Come on. Fuck. What?”  
Fuck now, talk later, you decided.  
“Nothing.”  
Your tongue on the tip of his cock stopped his complaints and he simply moaned instead.

He and his wife fought. The hickeys hadn’t faded. Naveen didn’t blame you, though. He didn’t even seem effected by it. Instead, he seemed almost brighter. He certainly seemed fine when he pressed himself to the back of you and kissed your neck. Public. You tried to say the word, but it came out as a sigh.  
“N- Naveen.”  
Naveen: “No one’s here.”  
He’d never held you like this. If he was pressing into the back of you it was either cuddling after a climax high, to grind against you, or because he was taking you from behind. This wasn’t a grope, it was a hug. He kissed up to your ear, and instead of nipping at it, he kissed it softly.  
“What are you doing?”  
Naveen: “What?”  
You sighed, eyes closed.  
“What are you doing?”  
And he stopped, loosing contact.  
Naveen: “Nothing.”

He was well spoken. He found poetic and perfect words to string together and used the lines often. He didn’t need to find more ways to say things, he just needed to get his point across. He spoke his mind. You understood it now. He didn’t give a shit, but not in a bad way. In a confident and intriguing way. 

Over the phone. He called you with one hand around his cock and breathing through clenched teeth.  
“Are you…”  
Naveen: “Fuck.”  
“Seriously?”  
Naveen: “Just- Umph. Just talk. Just… Fuck. Say- Say something. Moan. Fuck.”  
“I’m in public.”  
He moaned and you lowered your voice.  
“Do you want me to come over?”  
Naveen: “No. Just… mmph.”  
You rolled your eyes and opened your car door. The truth was, he couldn’t fucking finish. He was getting frustrated at this point and his arm was tired, but he was still horny. He basically whined into the phone, and you had to admit it was turning you on.  
“So what exactly do you want me to do?”  
Naveen: “Fucking moan. Fucking…”  
A growl. A gen-u-ine growl. So you did as told. Soft, begging moans into the phone, along with utterances of ‘please’, and ‘fuck’, and ‘mm, Naveen’. You heard that shaky, low moan as he came. You gulped and tried to ignore the heartbeat beneath your panties. He panted.  
Naveen: “Fuck.”  
“You good now?”  
Naveen: “Fuck yes.”  
“Good. Talk to you later.”  
You closed the phone and fought the urge to work yourself right in the parking lot of the mall. 

Everyone knew the two of you had "crushes" on each other. Barbara knew. Yet, the couple didn't split. Naveen took that as permission to be more obvious. Now he was flirting with you at an awards show. An awards show.  
Naveen: "The first time I met y/f/n, she said to me, 'Are you a fan? Most people are'. It wasn't- Well, it- it was me who said that. I think most people are fans of her now. I, um..."  
He scratched his head.  
Naveen: "I love y/n. She's a wonderful woman, and a great actress. I've been having a great time working with her and I can't wait to see more of her. And, please help me welcome -Never mind the bollocks- y/f/n."  
You stand, sheepishly walking to the stage. Naveen moves to you, holding out a hand and looking into your eyes in that unique-to-Naveen way. You take his hand and he leads you to the podium, a hand just behind your back, touching it ever so faintly when your steps didn't match up. He was a fast walker and you were in heels. He stood behind you as you began to panic slightly. All eyes were on you.  
"Um... Wow. Naveen Andrews, ladies and gentlemen, without a script. I know he was really excited to say bollocks on cable, so..."  
You gave a nervous laugh.  
"Um, I... Wow. Um..."  
You glance to Naveen, though you aren't supposed to look behind you when you're the center of attention. He gives you a faint nod, and you look back out at the crowd.  
"I wanna thank my mother, for throwing me into this and pushing me to continue. I wanna thank everyone I learned from, not only pertaining to nor excluding the academy. Wow, okay. Big words. Means I'm nervous. Um... I want to thank the cast. My best friends, who I have been incredibly blessed to learn from, work, and skinny dip with. I wanna thank Damon and Carlton for having faith in me. I was supposed to be written off the show. My character was supposed to die. I came to Damon, trying desperately to convince him to keep me. I gave him my ideas, proposed what could happen in the show... I gave it everything I had. I needed to stay. And Damon... Damon let me stay. He told me that... He told me he wanted to hear more of me. He wanted to delve into my mind and he wanted to give me the chance to put myself out there. He told me he wanted to hear more of me. Damon, that meant more to me than you can imagine. That was what I've been needing to hear for years. That was the validation I was desperately craving. You... I almost cried right in front of him that day. So thank you. For hearing me and making the decision to take my words to heart. Last, but not least. I want to thank my emotional support."  
You looked to Naveen again.  
"Thank you."  
You looked back.  
"And thank you."

You and Naveen got a moment alone together, away from fans and reporters.  
Naveen: "Emotional support?"  
"Among other things."  
He smiled, and then did something surprising. He kissed you. You kissed back, wrapping your arms behind his neck. He broke the kiss and your hands slid over his shoulders to his chest. He touched a hand to your jaw, then kissed you quickly before walking off. He spoke without looking at you.  
Naveen: "I'll see you on set, I suppose."

Hot tub. You were in a hot tub and Naveen was behind you again. His arms were hooked under yours, his hands on your shoulders. His face in your neck, breath against your skin. You gripped the concrete framing the pool, head tipping forewards and back as a jet stream sent shocks of pleasure through you. Naveen was sucking and pulling at the skin of your neck, trying to guide you closer to the pressure of the water stream, but you pushed back, knowing you could already barely take it. His teeth closed around your skin and suddenly you couldn’t take it. Moaning like a damn porn star, your arms against the pool gave out and you were simply pressed closer to the wall. He held you tighter as your eyes shut and you choked out moans. He pounded you faster and you squirted, though it wasn’t that porno squirt that shoots five feet into the air. You were leaning partially over the wall, boobs pressed against your arms on the tiles. He didn’t stop. You were cumming from both his cock and the stream, all but screaming as you teared up. Finally, with a few loud, animalistic grunts and moans, Naveen finished. You whimpered and he pulled you from the jet stream. He panted as he leaned against the jetless wall. Whimpering as your muscles silently screamed at you for tensing them that hard, you snuggled up to him. He put an arm around you as his panting slowed.  
Naveen: “Were you crying?”  
It took you a minute to steady before answering.  
“Probably.”  
Naveen: “You alright?”  
You nodded.  
“Yeah.”  
Naveen: “I guess I should’ve stopped when you started screaming.”  
“Was I?”  
Naveen: “Yeah.”  
“Well then…”  
Naveen: “Well then.”

You really, truly understood the appeal of Naveen. He was smart. Poetic at times and yet overly sexual at others. He was a good father. He wanted nothing more than to see the kid grow into something better than he considered himself. He didn't truly think he was old, he was just incredibly regretful he would never experience his younger years how he now wished he did. He was funny. He was incredibly nice and patient, though he had strong opinions. He was good with fans, and appreciated them wholeheartedly.

The hot tub wasn’t the only instance of orgasm torture, and you were both serious about the rope. Your safe words were your characters names. You often found yourself screaming and writing around, and Naveen would be ready to stop, just as he was now.  
Naveen: “I can stop.”  
“No!”  
Naveen: “You can use the word.”  
You cried out, sweat beading on your forehead and tears in your eyes.  
Naveen: “How long can you last, darling? We’ve been at this for-”  
He’s cut off by a mix of a moan and a sob. He doesn’t stop, not yet anyway. You cry out again.  
“Stop! Stop, stop, stop!”  
He almost does.  
Naveen: “Safe w-”  
“Sayid!”  
He quickly turns off the vibrator that was the cause of your current pain and takes the constraints from your hands and ankles. You can barely breathe. He kisses your cheek softly and you swore it sent shooting pains throughout your body. He’s pretty gentlemanly as he puts your clothes on, seeing as you’re too weak to do it yourself yet. 

He was a nice cuddler. Soft, detail oriented. He treated you like you were an art. Soft kisses now, though they were too casual only a year before.

And the show was over. After nearly six years of twists and turns, both on screen and off, it was done. You shot a couple parodies for Kimmel, and it was nice to see Naveen again. Soon the gags were over, and the partial cast met one last time. You pulled Naveen aside to talk.  
“So.”  
Naveen: “So?”  
“It’s really over, huh?”  
Naveen: “Don’t start crying like you did after we shot the finale. And during the finale. And days before we shot the finale.”  
“Alright, I get it.”  
A pause.  
“So…”  
He said nothing.  
“Are we done?”  
Naveen: “Done with what?”  
“Whatever it is we’ve been doing for over two years.”  
Naveen: “Not quite sure.”  
A pause as you look at the ground.  
“Everyone always says they’ll keep in touch… but I doubt it.”  
Naveen said nothing. He was almost upset he seemed to be losing this friends with benefits deal.  
“It’s not fair, you know.”  
Naveen: “What?”  
“What we’ve been doing.”  
Naveen: “Why’s that?”  
“Because you know I like you more than that.”  
No he didn’t.  
“Anyway. I’m gonna head out. Bye, Naveen.”  
And he let you walk away.

**Author's Note:**

> Pls hit the kudos button for my self confidence.


End file.
